Too Many Stars
by furrylittlebantha
Summary: Luke and Mara have a mission to fulfill on the planet of Kholas. What neither of them realizes is that it has nothing to do with politics or smuggling and everything to do with the scars on Mara’s soul. Shortly follows the events of The Last Command.
1. Prologue

Title: Too Many Stars

Disclaimer: We can't always own the things we want. That's what Anakin found out at Mustafar. That's what I found out at the copyright agency.

WARNING: This fic contains OCs, nil mush, Mara Jade sans hair descriptions, Luke Skywalker sans eye descriptions, personal reflections on the meaning of life, flashbacks, and miscellaneous references to a deceased bantha. If any or all of these items could induce panic, nausea, shortness of breath, or an overwhelming desire to throw rotten tomatoes, please refrain from reading further. In the incident of accidental overdose, promptly locate a fic crammed with angst, mush, pleasing clichés, and/or your favorite character shirtless and screaming. Devour immediately.

"People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life…I think that what we're really seeking is an experience of being alive…"

—Joseph Campbell

_Prologue_

_The racket was growing louder, and Mara glanced over her shoulder, heart pumping. They had to get out of this clearing. Once in the trees, she and Skywalker would be practically invisible. They had almost made it when he suddenly halted and looked down. _

"_Please…" The word was barely audible, wisping out of what had once been a face. Skywalker knelt down swiftly and began to suppress the dying soldier's pain, horror and deep concern in his eyes. _

_"Skywalker." Her voice was tight. "We have to keep moving." He seemed not to hear. "Skywalker, they're coming!" Still he did not move. "Luke," she finally sighed in exasperation, crouching beside him. She glanced over the mangled form in front of them with an impassionate eye. "If this man survives, and that's a big if, he'll be in horrific pain for the rest of his life. He won't be able to eat, speak, breathe, or move on his own. You want to be merciful, you put him out of his misery and move your Jedi rear into the woods before we end up like him." He finally turned to look at her, and she was startled at the intensity of the grief and desperation on his face. _

_"But there's _life_ in him…" he whispered. "I can feel it." There was a subtle echo to his words, a whisper twined about them of something far more personal than this soldier's pulse. She noted the anomaly, then shook it out of her mind as the crashing of their pursuers grew louder. There had to be something that would convince this nerf to move. His blasted issues could wait until he was in somewhat less danger of being blown to bits. _

_It turned out that she didn't have to convince him, after all. The blaster bolt that narrowly missed her shoulder hit the fallen soldier squarely in the forehead, effectively ending the argument. As she half-dragged the Jedi to his feet and out of the clearing, dodging and returning blaster fire, a part of her wondered at the wistful sadness in his eyes. It still there when they slipped past the remaining defenses and he destroyed the crucial piece of hardware with a deft swipe of his lightsaber. It was still there when they shot away from the planet with a score of enemy fighters on their tail, only barely escaping into hyperspace. It was still there when Mon Mothma formally praised their actions and the entire Senate rose to its feet and applauded. It was even there when his sister hugged him somewhat stiffly and Solo shot Mara a puzzled glance. _

_In the days that followed Skywalker was quiet, grave, and elusive. Fine with her, she'd thought at first, after informing the nearest medic that his checkups were long overdue. She liked him best unconscious, anyways. But when three weeks went by and Skywalker evaded her increasingly blunt inquiries with disturbing skill, she went to Organa Solo, only to be met with an equally disturbing coldness. _

_"For all his bashfulness, Luke is incredibly hard-headed," she told Mara icily. "If he doesn't feel like talking about something, he'll take his own sweet time about it. Believe me." Her tone clearly implied past experience, and even more clearly warned Mara not to pry. "I'm sorry, Mara, but you've come to the wrong person. Now if you'll excuse me, there are matters I must attend to." As she swept away, Mara could see her fists clenching and unclenching, knuckles white. She knew that the woman's anger had absolutely nothing to do with her._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Mara Jade had no great love for dreams. As a rule, they either were signs of some pending upheaval in her life or were memories of her career as the Emperor's Hand. Neither was welcome. So when she woke up one morning with flickering images of a small boy teasing at the edge of her consciousness, she sighed resignedly and began preparing for her world to shatter once more.

There was one redeeming quality about these dreams, she reflected, and that was the absence of a certain scheming, sadistic and incidentally dead Sith Lord commanding her to kill someone. In fact, the only thing they had in common with the nightmares that drove her to hunt Luke Skywalker for five years was her uncomfortable conviction that the Force was messing with her life again. She had certainly never seen this child before, and yet she dreamed of him with impossibly clarity…_heartbreaking clarity, _she thought, then puzzled over her choice of the word. Omen or not, the dreams themselves were far from tragic.

"_Reimi, come inside! It's time to eat, and you're covered with filth!" The little boy pushed a heavy, unruly lock of hair out his eyes and scowled in the direction of the voice. "Am not," he muttered defiantly. "Don't wanna go in." He climbed laboriously out of the hole he had been digging and started to sneak out of range of the window. _

"_Whoa, there, my young adventurer, where do you think you're going?" Strong arms scooped him up and tossed him high into the air. _

"_Daddy!" Reimi shrieked happily, designs of rebellion momentarily forgotten. The man blinked rapidly and laughed as clumps of dirt sprinkled onto his face. _

"_For a fellow who's truly not filthy, you certainly know how to keep up appearances." He set the boy down and snatched up a fistful of hair, revealing an almost black face. _

"_Hmm," he said, voice mock-serious, "Private, I find you guilty of mutiny, of possessing illegal amounts of soil, and of having enough fur to shame a Wookie. This court hereby sentences you to five seconds of fast chewing, sentence to be carried out immediately." The man's hand whipped into his pocket and pressed a chunk of candy into his son's grimy fingers. _

"_Lan, is that you?" The door to the house swung open and a woman stepped out, wiping her hands on a towel._

"_Swallow, fast!" the man whispered, and walked away to gather the woman in an embrace. Over her shoulder, he winked at Reimi. The boy returned a wide, sticky blue grin. _

Every night she learned a little more of Reimi, observed more of the charmed life he led. He longed to be an adventurer. He hated school with a passion. His laugh was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.

Over the course of several weeks, the dreams began to show an older boy, and finally a man. The love of blue candy and digging he grew out of; the untidy shock of dark hair and stubbornness he did not. He had everything: vigor, high spirits, courage, a strong, if not handsome face, and eventually, the love of a beautiful wife and daughter. _Curse you, lucky sithspawn_, she thought wryly one morning. _You're only a projection of my subconscious, and you still manage to be as nauseating as Skywalker. Well, almost._ The caustic sarcasm came easily, but deep within she knew it was not meant. Having seen and experienced so much pain in her own life, she didn't have the heart to begrudge another's happiness, even if he was only a dream. _Now, Skywalker, on the other hand…_

_Why, then, did silent, misty sadness soak every image, as if the Force itself was shedding tears? _

OoooOooooO

Luke Skywalker took a deep breath and stepped into the cabin of the Wild Karrde. It was like Mothma to send him to do the dirty jobs, he grumbled to himself. Or maybe just the jobs she thought no one else would survive.

"Hey, Mara."

"Skywalker," Mara acknowledged shortly. She continued to fiddle with the wiring in the weapon's panel, not bothering to look at him. "Can it wait? I'm busy."

"Actually…no." For some reason, he was suddenly reminded vividly of his duel with the Rancor. Odd. "Council sent me with a message." Without warning, the temperature in the room dropped sharply. Or at least he thought it did.

"Oh?" Maybe it was just the ice in her tone. Luke rubbed his arms anyways.

"With Karrde still in the med bay and the crew grounded, they want us to do another mission. Oh, and there's a shipment Karrde wants you to pick up on the planet, so he's requested that you go." Slowly, deliberately, Mara finished repairing the broken valve, laid down the hydrospanner, and turned around to contemplate him. Luke shifted nervously, his memories taking an abrupt swing to the cave on Hoth. He had been hanging by his feet in ice, then, with yet another hungry monster attempting to ingest him. He shook the thoughts out of his head, along with the tiny suspicion that they were very likely Force premonitions.

"Skywalker." The name sounded like a curse. Perhaps it was, Luke mused. "As long as you're playing courier, I have a message for the Council." Mara's voice was smooth, but her Force sense was blazing indignation and fury. _The emperor's throne room, dark and menacing, a black wave of impending doom washing over him…_ She proceeded to give her message. Five minutes into it, he gently pushed the door closed. It didn't matter that the only other people in earshot were fighter pilots. Luke wasn't sure that even the Rouge Squadron's impressive vocabulary was as extensive as Mara's. Another five minutes later, he was certain.

"I'll relay it," he said gravely when she paused to take a breath, and made a very fast and un-Jedi-like retreat. Halfway across the hanger, he sensed the hydrospanner hurtling toward him with deadly accuracy and dodged it neatly. He grinned and sent out a smug thought.

_Kind of messy for an ex-Emperor's Hand, Mara. _

_After we finish this mission, message-boy, I will show you in exquisite detail the fullest meanings and implications of 'messy.' _

_Are you by any chance threatening me? I'm sensing a lot of negative feelings in your words._

_That's not a threat. It's your kriffing destiny. _

Destiny. Luke sighed, good mood evaporating. He withdrew his mind and headed up the corridor to Mon Mothma's office. She would be pleased to know Mara had accepted without maiming him or destroying the hangar.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Three days. Three days in hyperspace, and he'd barely made a peep. Mara leaned back against the bulkhead, contemplating the back of Skywalker's head as he stared silently out the view port. He'd hardly moved from this position since they'd coaxed the dilapidated freighter out of Coruscant's atmosphere, much less shown signs of wanting to engage in a heart-to-heart. Until now. Somehow, she sensed he was finally ready to talk, and she was more curious than ever. Secrets among the Skywalker clan tended towards the earth-shattering.

Their briefing had been awkward, to say the least. Organa Solo had done the honors, and the room crackled dangerously with the tension between the siblings, though outwardly both remained composed. A sacred artifact had been spirited away from a temple on Kholas, she informed them, her tone crisp and all business. The Kholasi was in a panic and demanded nothing less than Jedi to investigate the menace.

"_So what is this precious little trinket?" Mara wanted to know. Organa Solo blinked. _

"_A mummified bantha," she said primly, almost daring them to laugh. They didn't. Not then, and not during the remainder of their 'briefing.' Apparently there was only one food group on Kholas: milk. For centuries, an ever-diminishing and rather diminutive local species supplied Kholas with just enough sustenance to keep their race alive. At last, on the brink of their extinction, a Republic ship crash-landed on the planet, giving Kholas its first taste of technology, space travel, and most significantly, banthas. Why there was a bantha on the transport was never established, but that perhaps only added to the legend. It didn't take long for the Kholasi to discover that female banthas possessed incredibly active mammary glands. The original bantha, the 'bringer of life', quickly evolved from hero to demi-god to the center of a new monotheistic religion. When she died at an obscenely old age, her body was preserved in near-perfect condition and retained its status as an object of worship. At the present date, the elaborate Kholasi religion revolved around that corpse, and every aspect of Kholasi life revolved around their religion. Simply put, it had to be recovered._

"_They have identified the culprits from a security holo recording. However, Kholas is a pacifist culture and employs no armed law enforcement. They demand nothing less than Jedi to deal with the menace, or they will immediately withdraw from the New Republic. We cannot lose the good faith of Kholas." Organa Solo stared hard at them. "Any and all threats to them must be annihilated." The words were directed to both of them, but her eyes were on her brother. They lingered on him for a moment, hard as durasteel, and then she turned abruptly and stalked out of the room without so much as a goodbye. _

"_A mummified bantha." Mara stated, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that they were going halfway across the galaxy to retrieve a dead animal. "There must be a kriffing good market for gods." Skywalker didn't crack a smile. _

Mara should found the scene amusing. She didn't. That disturbed her. She had expected Skywalker to fill her in, but he hadn't said a word. That disturbed her too, since he usually couldn't shut up about his observations on everything in the galaxy, mundane to profound. Today, though, there had been a shift. She was sure he would let her coax it out of him. So Mara proceeded to coax.

"Skywalker," she said abruptly. "Spill." His shoulders tensed, and she could see that the question did not take him by surprise. There was a long silence. Finally, he swung the chair around and looked up at her.

"You've been wondering about Leia and I," he began. Mara snorted.

"Those Jedi perceptions…astounding, Skywalker." He ignored her and plunged on ahead, words spilling out with a certain wearied relief.

"A few days before that last mission of ours, I accompanied my sister on a diplomatic visit to some Outer Rim system. Like usual, she told me to let her do the talking and to just smile, nod a lot and look heroic. So I did, and like usual, she told the whole planet that I single-handedly killed the galaxy's two most evil men. I got… frustrated with her. I asked her to stop giving the wrong version of what happened. I reminded her that Anakin Skywalker had been our father, that he was good in the end, that he had given his life for mine. Then Leia, well, she got frustrated at me. She told me the galaxy couldn't accept my version, and in her heart, neither could she. All anyone needed to know was that I came back and Darth Vader blew up. 'Just like Alderaan,' she said." He shivered.

"Hatred and glee emanated from her Force-sense so strongly, Mara. …it frightened me." The hurt bewilderment in his voice gave Mara the sudden, crazy impulse to put her arm around his shoulder. She killed the errant thought quickly and waited for him to continue.

"I'd never been able to bring myself to talk much about what went on at Bespin and Endor. It was too… raw. Still kind of is," he said with a tired half-smile. "But I knew that I couldn't let Leia keep thinking this way if I could help it. I couldn't let her anger take her down the dark side. So I told her the right version." Mara could feel him gathering himself, could feel the effort the next words took him.

" I told her about the split second on Cloud City when I could have killed Vader, the moment the Force showed me the leap to make, the place to stab." _That _was interesting.

" I told her how I couldn't do it, how the opportunity passed and he defeated me. I told her how I gradually came to recognize what stopped me; the Force had shown me the goodness in him, too. I told her what Yoda and Ben told me, that it was my destiny to destroy him." Bitterness tinged his tone now. "Since the day I was born people have been deciding my 'destiny' for me." Mara pursed her lips at that statement and studied the man in front of her with new eyes. Open and honest as he was, Skywalker had never let her see this much of him before. A part of her felt a surge of comradeship for a fellow being who had been through hell and survived. Another part wondered why in worlds he was telling her this now.

"Finally I told her what happened on the Death Star, how when he was fighting me, the true battle was in his soul, how even though I won our duel, he won his." His voice cracked. "I told her how…I saw him, afterwards. I told her I recognized him because months ago the Force showed me the good in him evil hadn't completely crippled, even as it showed me how to kill him. I told her I understood then. The Force doesn't control our destinies. It only gives us an idea of what they could be."

"Hoth frost_, I_ know that, Skywalker." He started, as if having forgotten she was there. Another wry grin flitted across his face.

"I guess you do, Mara. Anyway, Leia exploded. She couldn't seem to believe that I not only chose to spare Vader once, but also defied Yoda's last instructions and did it again. She insisted that I could philosophize all I wanted, but Yoda had been a great Jedi and how dare I presume to argue about the nature of my duty. She said like it or not, my destiny _had been_ to rid the galaxy of its two most evil men. Then she quit talking to me."

"This explains the little farewell scene," Mara said thoughtfully. She paused, digesting all she just heard. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm on Organa Solo's side." What she expected to feel from him after that flat statement was anger, resentment, even betrayal. What she did not expect was a concentrated surge of the same strange sadness that had been trickling out of his mind for weeks now. _Good, _she thought after a moment of initial surprise. _If I can keep him distracted it should be easy to pinpoint the cause of this ridiculous moping before he even knows I'm in. _"Listen, sometimes people or situations are so far gone that in 'saving' them, more pain is caused than is worth it. Thousands of dead beings would be at home right now if Darth Vader had been decapitated nice and tidy right at Bespin. But no, you had to launch yourself into a typically messy quest to nobly rescue whatever miserable speck of humanity resided in that black armor, regardless of collateral damage." She knocked his shaggy pate none too gently. "There's a serious hero complex up here, Skywalker. Get it looked at. I would, you know, if I had one. Which I don't, of course..."

_What?_

"…And don't even bring up springing Karrde off that Star Destroyer. Loyalty to an employer is vastly different than bantha-brained…"

"That's enough, Mara," Skywalker interrupted gently. She withdrew from his mind with a twinge of guilt.

"Sorry, I suppose I was babbling." He locked eyes with her then, and she saw it again, the answer. The cause. Herself.

"That's right," he confirmed, and looked away. "You know, you could have just asked." For once, Mara Jade was speechless.

"But," was all she managed to get out before the transmitter crackled and a ponderous voice filled the cabin.

"Greetings, New Republic fighter. This is Kholas Ground Control. Please state your business." Skywalker leaned over and spoke into the transmitter.

"This is Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, here per request of a Kholasani delegation led by Senator Aein Raven. Sending identification codes now." There was a short silence.

" Welcome to Kholas, Jedi Skywalker," the voice said at last. "You have been cleared for landing on platform 8b."

"Thank you, Ground Control," Skywalker said. He strapped in. Mara took her place at the copilot's seat and mentally revised her itinerary.

_Run Karrde's errand._

_Deal with Kholas' 'menace'._

_Make Skywalker talk._

_Give Skywalker pain for making her come along._

_Note: not necessarily in that order. _

Author's Note: Joking aside, I know this is a very different kind of plot, even from the stuff I usually write (just check out my bio—angst, angst, and more angst!). So, I just want to thank those who are reading, even though Vader doesn't find Luke at a young age and Luke and Mara aren't having sex. Feedback would be appreciated…I'm branchin' out here!


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Caviar, Oreos, and a longer chapter to all my lovely reviewers! You're awesome. Lurkers, there's plenty to go around. Why am I serving you such odd fare? That's an extremely good question.

Chapter 3

"Are you sure this is the place?" Luke peered up at the towering black wall. Cortosis ore, Mara told him, one of the only lightsaber-proof substances in the galaxy. Definitely not the kind of thing you'd expect to surround the home of a civilian couple doing a little smuggling on the side. Mara consulted the datapad once more and pursed her lips.

"Yes," she said, "But it doesn't say anything about a fortress. Just a private home." Her fingers unconsciously strayed to her arm where Luke knew she kept a small, potent blaster. "Karrde…" she growled. "It's not like him to leave out information."

"When I last saw him, he was in a bacta tank," Luke offered helpfully. "Aves was probably the one who filled out the directive." As Mara turned on him, he realized belatedly that bringing up her employer's incapacity was not the smartest thing to do, especially considering it was the reason she was here right now. Fortunately for him, at that moment there was a deep rumble and the gate swung open slowly. Luke tensed, preparing himself for anything. Mara's hand was very definitely in the vicinity of her blaster now.

A short, round, middle-aged human woman stepped out and gave them a hospitable smile.

"You are Talon's associates," she said, voice soft and calm. It was not a question. "My name is Syunni Taa-Milo. Come inside; we've been waiting." Luke detected no hostility or deceit in Taa-Milo, only kindness. He relaxed his stance and with a shrug at Mara, followed her through the gate. Mara did not. She stood where she was, practically broadcasting her suspicion and dislike of the whole situation. Luke kept walking but spoke to her mentally.

_Come on, Mara, it's okay. We need to get this over with soon, or the Kholasi will be unhappy. _

_**They won't be the only ones if you don't shut up and listen. You may be able to read souls, but I can read gaits, and this person walks like a commando— or a professional assassin.**_

_Yes, I did notice the certain grace in her stride. _

_**This is no time for banter, Jedi. Sane people do not stroll blind and empty-handed into the stronghold of a potential enemy.**_

_In case you hadn't noticed, no one who joined the Rebellion was ever diagnosed with sanity. Just relax and have some faith in me. No matter what she used to be, I'm confident that she means us no harm now. Besides, one who has the Force is never empty-handed. _

_**Skywalker…**_

_Mara, I'm familiar with that tongue of yours, but try not to say anything too lacerating or I'll stumble. This path is uneven._

_**Familiar with my tongue? Not as much as you'd like, I'll wager. **_

Luke blushed, hard, but grinned as he heard her approaching. Taa-Milo looked back and studied his face, a tiny, knowing smile twitching about her mouth.

"Convinced her I'm not going to kill you, eh?" He blinked. Chuckling lightly, she started to key in an entry code to the heavy metallic doors of the house. Interestingly, it was a rather unassuming building, despite the wall and other, subtler security measures Luke had spotted. An enigma. Just like Syunni Taa-Milo herself. She was a plump, ordinary looking woman kind dark eyes and fly-away graying hair. Her feet were bare; her clothes were simple and comfortable. Her Force-sense overwhelmed him with compassion. But if her comment was anything to go by, she knew exactly what he was. And according to Mara, she was lethal.

Mara caught up with them and shot him a hard look. The three of them stepped inside.

"Mikal, Talon Karrde's people are here already!" Taa-Milo called out. She gestured to the modest furniture in the room. "Please, have a seat. Mikal will be out in a moment." She slipped out. Luke sat down and looked around the small room, noting the sparse furnishings and handcrafted decorations. Mara remained standing and noted the expertly concealed security holocams.

"So, what's this package?" Luke said at last. Mara shrugged.

"Karrde didn't tell me. And if he had, I wouldn't tell _you_." Silence reigned once more. Suddenly her voice burst into his head.

_**I remember them! The names, Mikal Milo and Syunni Taa-Milo. Clumsy of them not to change them. They were bounty hunters, the best in the business during the Clone Wars. You should like them, Skywalker; their hero complex was almost as overgrown as yours. Every being they brought in was wanted by the Old Republic. Rumor had it they were employed by the Jedi Council itself. After the change in government, they worked solo for a few months, then virtually vanished. Even their names disappeared from official databases. **_

_How is it that you know about them, then? _There was an uncomfortable pause.

_**I was assigned to dispose of them**, _she said at last, her tone a trifle grudging. **_My master despised loose ends. Obviously, I failed to even find them. They are very good._**

_They must be. I wonder what they're doing here. _A thought occurred to him.

_We could use them, you know. If it's true that they were loyal to the Old Republic, perhaps they can find something to inspire that same loyalty in the new one. _

_**Somehow, I doubt it. It's been over six years since Endor. **_

_It took Bel Iblis five, you know._

**_Hold it—did you hear that?_**

Luke broke off the contact. It was a strange noise, something between a grating rasp and a cough. Stretching out his awareness, he blinked in surprise; there was a fifth person in the house. He sank deeper into the Force, probing. Something was wrong with the sense… it was muddled, somehow… trapped.

Finely attuned as his perceptions were, Mara's shock as she picked up on the person almost jolted him out of his skin.

"What's wrong?" he said aloud. She shook her head slowly.

"I don't know, Skywalker." Hardened, sophisticated Mara - shaken and confused. "I feel like… like I've met him before…"

"He? How can you tell it's a he?" Catching the ripple in the Force, Luke stood a second before Mikal Milo entered the room. He could feel Mara following suit and swiftly smoothing every trace of vulnerability from her face.

"Greetings, Jedi Skywalker, Ms. Jade," the tall man said, nodding to them. Luke quickly examined him as he had done Syunni Taa-Milo. Clean. "I trust your journey was uneventful. I must admit, I was somewhat surprised at Mr. Karrde's choice in representatives." His measured gaze swept over them, and Luke felt slightly uncomfortable under the other end of scrutiny. He was suddenly fifteen again, holding his head up and trying hard to look innocent as Uncle Owen questioned him about an unfinished chore.

"This one isn't with Karrde, though I would have assumed _you_ would know that already," Mara snapped. "We have other business on Kholas, and incidentally, it can't wait. Where's the shipment?" Milo smiled. In a flash of insight, Luke saw beneath that smile and into the man's soul. There was patience there, the deep, rich patience only achieved by years of discipline and pain. Jedi-like patience.

"I'm afraid it's not quite ready. You're early, you see."

"Early!"

"If you return in about seven hours, we should have it prepared for transport." Luke considered this. It seemed reasonable. Mara was clearly unhappy with the situation, but under the circumstances, they really weren't in the position to press the issue. And she knew it.

"Fine," she said ungraciously. "Seven hours, then." The hacking noise drifted through the open door again, louder.

"Kade," Milo said, unperturbed. "Our son. I know you're in a hurry, but will you come in for a moment to say hello? He loves visitors."

"No."

"We'd love too," Luke said simultaneously. Milo looked from one face to the other, and his mouth crinkled into another patient smile.

**_This is _not_ one of your more brilliant days, Skywalker. Not that you ever have any. So why are we doing this?_**

_It's a… feeling I have. It won't take a minute, anyways._

The scathing replythat Luke knew would follow this statement was cut off as they filed into a small, neat room. He winced as the smell of antiseptic hit his nose sharply. Taa-Milo was leaning over a bed with her back to them and did not look up.

"Just a second," she murmured. Luke looked around the room. More puzzles. The drab walls were lined with shelves covered with row upon row of colorful children's toys. Simple plush figures to detailed miniatures of x-wings, each plaything nearly sparkled in just-out-of-the-box newness. Much too new for a child's possessions, if Luke's own youth was anything to judge by. He glanced at Mara, but she was staring at the bed, face twisted in an unreadable expression.

Taa-Milo straightened and laid a folded cloth on the extended arm of a hovering droid. A life support droid, Luke realized. For patients who weren't expected to recover. The woman moved aside, and his breath caught in his throat.

"We found him when he was a baby," Taa-Milo said. Though he looked over twenty, it was clear Kade Milo's mind was still an infant's.

"He had been horribly abused." His arms waved helplessly in the air. They were thin, stubby, and grotesquely twisted.

"Not more than six months old, and it was clear that someone had thrown him across a room and beat him repeatedly." His body was frail, underdeveloped, disproportionately small for his head.

"When we found him, he had more fractures and concussions than anyone still living Mikal or I ever saw." His head jerked from side to side ceaselessly, mouth working. Luke noticed a thin trickle of drool down one side of his face.

"There was no one else around to care for him, so what could we do?" Taa-Milo brushed the thick lock of brown hair off his forehead affectionately and Kade's empty eyes wandered to her face for an instant. To Luke's astonishment, his mouth twisted into a wide, beautiful smile before jerking away. Taa-Milo patted his cheek, not roughly, but a comfortable, careless caress completely lacking the brittle quality most beings had around the disabled. "He knows our voices," she said.

Without warning, Kade's eyes bulged and his chest began to shudder with that horrible grating cough. A sticky, milky white substance oozed from his throat.

"It's the weather," Taa-Milo explained as her husband pulled a cloth from a drawer and began to dab the liquid away with a practiced hand. "He's allergic to certain pollens."

Mara shook her head slightly, seeming to come out of a trance.

"Why weren't you able to get him medical treatment?" Luke was certain he was the only one that detected the faint wobble in her voice. "Even as badly injured as…Kadewas, surely prompt medical attention could have…"

"Circumstances prevented it," Milo interrupted. Startled by the finality in his tone, Luke looked up to catch the swift glance that passed between the couple. Aware that he was watching them, the woman dropped her eyes, fingering her wedding band nervously. There was an awkward silence.

"Time to go, Skywalker. We'll be back in seven hours," Mara said suddenly, and walked out of the room with just the barest of nods to the Milos. Luke smiled apologetically.

"It was an honor to meet you," Milo said, extending his hand. Luke shook it firmly. "You're doing good things with your life, Luke Skywalker." Then Luke remembered.

"Milo, we could use people like you in the New Republic. You should give the idea some consideration."

"People like us?" Milo inquired. Ah yes, Luke wasn't supposed to know of their past lives. He wished profoundly that Leia were here to smooth things over; it was only too typical of him to make a blunder in the first sentence of the recruitment speech.

"People who are…selfless," he improvised. It was true enough.

"No." The reply was gentle but firm. "We have our own path to follow, Jedi Skywalker, a different one than yours and your government's." His gaze wandered to Kade, moving restlessly on the bed. "It is what we have chosen." Luke nodded slowly, recognizing the decision in the man's words.

"May the Force be with you on that path, then."

Note: The events of this chapter are mostly real, except that the "parents" were presumably not a smuggler duo in hiding and I do not have Force sensitivity. But I did visit an elderly couple's home, and I did meet a young man as described. His story was saddening, of course, but it did not make a real impact on me until I looked into his eyes and saw something there that shook me in a way I've never been before. Of course, being cursed with a writer's mentality (if not skill), I began to wonder how I could convert that strong emotion into a fanfic. For obvious reasons, both Mara and Luke came to mind.

And, on we go to meet with the bantha-obsessed Kholasi!


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Luke shifted in his chair, trying vainly to find a more comfortable position. It was obviously made for a larger frame. In fact, as he looked around at the office where they were waiting for audience with High Councilor Anchuga, he noticed that _everything_ seemed to be on a larger scale. Perhaps it was not coincidence that every Kholasani they encountered thus far in the palace was…large. Excessively so.

"Idiots." Luke was surprised at the vehemence in the whispered word.

"Who? The Milos?"

"Who else, Jedi?" Her voice rose slightly, and Luke glanced at the impassive guards flanking the door in front of them.

"This isn't the best time, Mara."

**Fine. How's this? **

_Better. Just because they didn't change their names, you can hardly insult their intelligence. Force, they live in a citadel. _

**I'm not talking about that**Luke could sense that she was still inexplicably unsettled, despite the ironclad shields around her mind. **I'm talking about the manner in which they are twiddling away their lives in that citadel. Fine if they were tired of their careers. But this… this is a waste. Not to mention completely inhumane.**

_I'd hardly call them inhumane, _he replied mildly. _Despite his disability, Kade _is _a person who deserves to live, you know. _

**A person! He's not living; the droid does it for him. He's just…**

_More machine than man? _Luke cringed at the inquisitive surprise that followed his interjection. _Pull yourself together, Mara, _he said quickly, cutting off the question that he didn't really feel like answering._ Someone's coming._

**What, you don't think I can sense it?**

The door to the office opened suddenly, and Luke looked up as a Kholasi entered the room. A beruffled, jingling, enormous Kholasi. The High Councilor Anchuga.

**I recall from my education as a child that the Kholasi were physiologically on the small side,**Mara sent with a somewhat startled amusement.

_Must be that wonderfully nourishing milk, _Luke replied with an uncharacteristic flash of irreverence as he rose and bowed respectfully.

"Master Jedi; Ms. Jade," the Kholasi greeted them, returning the bow. His voice was incongruously high-pitched for someone of such stature. "I cannot express the gratitude that resides in the warmest places of the deepest part of my most tender heart at the great sacrifice you have made in traversing the vast deep, the terrors of space to come to our humble people's aid." He inclined his head, sending off a fresh shower of bells.

**Close your mouth, farmboy,**Mara admonished Luke silently. To his consternation, Luke found that his mouth, was, indeed, slightly ajar. Anchuga did not appear to notice the reaction his welcoming speech caused, however, and waddled around the desk without waiting for a reply, dropping into the massive chair with a sigh of relief.

"Now. To business. As I am sure you have been graciously informed, an unthinkable sacrilege has been committed." Anchuga paused dramatically. "The Great Life Bringer was purloined from Her own temple!" His jowls quivered in righteous indignation. Luke couldn't help noticing that they descended quite far down the Kholasi's chest. A memory floated to his mind of a historical figure they had taught about in school…a senator in the Old Republic…Binks, that's it, who in his old age was quite…corpulent…

With a sharp self-rebuke, the Jedi returned his attention to the babbling official.

"…even now our people are gathered at the door of the dastardly stronghold of our enemies, bound by our faith to move not an iota but merely to keep watch over the vile occupants, to guard them from making good their flight into the oblivion of the universe with that which is most sacred above all to despoil for their own carnal and lascivious wants and greed! I call on you this day for justice! I call on you, who have so valiantly defended the weak, who have so courageously helped the helpless, who have so unshakingly stood by the shaking! I call on you to stand one last time, to engage in one last titanic struggle against evil, to pour all your mighty powers into the conquering of the darkness that so heavily clouds our fair world, er, world…ah yes. And bring the evil perpetrators of this unthinkable act of villainy to their just and holy doom!" By the end of his speech, Anchuga was almost shouting. He sat back expectantly and mopped his brow with a large, ornately decorated handkerchief. Somewhat dazed, Luke did a quick Jedi calming exercise and mentally warned Mara not to laugh.

"We share your concern, High Councilor," he said gravely. Beside him, Mara snorted quietly. "It is to restore your Great Life Bringer to you that we have come."

"Who did it?" Mara asked. Anchuga nodded and reached into a drawer, pulling out a holocube.

"Yes. I perceive you are beings of action, not words. That is commendable; I myself have little use for much speaking, for what are high-handed phrases in times when the fate of a people is decided by swift, decisive movement by courageous beings such as us? Yes, my good Jedi, we have much in common." He flicked on the holocube, and the images of two people rose to hover in the air, ghostlike. Two people, a man and a woman. Luke's breath caught in his throat. They were Syunni and Mikal Milo.

"…lived among our people for years, ever secretive, hiding behind walls of black, the color of dark and the night, concealing their dastardly designs until they deigned the hour to strike arriving at last!" Anchuga was saying.

_Mara…? _Luke honestly did not know what to say or do. The Force was silent. _The Milos…_

**No more of this**she snapped back at him. **If you were any more expressive, _Threepio_ could read your thoughts. And wipe that grimace off your face.**

"Excuse me, High Councilor," Luke said politely. "My comrade and I need to discuss our plans in private."

"Of course, Jedi Skywalker." Heaving his enormous bulk up with some difficulty, Anchuga waddled around the desk and out of the door in a flurry of robes and bells.

Mara quickly glanced over the room. "No surveillance devices. The Councilor must be a private fellow."

"Now," Luke said, studying the holos, "Let me get this straight. The menace that we were assigned to dispose of and the package _you _were assigned to take off-planet are one and the same? There's a conflict of duty here."

"No there's not," Mara said calmly. "We just do what Karrde wants, and poof, no more Kholasi enemies numbers one and two."

"There's a mob of angry Hutts on legs in front of their house," Luke observed. "You do have a plan, I assume?"

"Of course!" She sounded affronted. "You create a distraction, I slip around back and smuggle them out. Simple and elegant."

"Simple, anyways," he said dubiously. Mara's 'plan' sounded a lot like something he and Han would have cooked up. A lot too much for comfort.

The door suddenly swung open and Anchuga reentered, entire body rolling with agitation.

"Master Jedi, I am loathe to disrupt your grave council of war, but it appears the war is already upon us." His eyes rolled back frantically in his head. "It seems a radical faction of our religion has, ah, placed little faith in the New Republic's power to recover the Great Life Bringer, and is now," he gasped for breath, "now committing _sacrilege, _attacking the Milo residence themselves!"

"Are they armed?" Luke inquired, springing to his feet.

"Oh, most unfortunately so, Master Jedi. How they managed to acquire such atrocities is beyond my knowledge, but they are prepared to destroy the dwelling at this very moment. In their unholy wrath, even regard for the safety of the Great Life Bringer is forgotten, leaving them seething in the blackest sin of violence, while the fate of our great people hangs by Kukchi thread, our future dangling in the balance of…"

"Thank you, High Councilor, for appraising us of the situation," Mara cut in quickly, moving smoothly and decisively to the door. "With your permission, we will depart now to deal with it." The Kholasi's enormous mouth froze in mid-phrase, heavily lidded eyes wide in shock. Luke realized wryly that he probably had never been interrupted in his life.

"For the sake of your people's souls, High Councilor, we must leave," he added before Anchuga could recover. "We thank you for a most gratifying encounter. If you would…?" He gestured to the door, which the massive Kholasi still blocked.

"Yes, yes, of course," Anchuga muttered, and padded over to his desk. He collapsed into it and mopped his brow, not even noticing that the saturated cloth did little good now. "I do wish to say, though, that knowing as I know the deeply changeable, indeed fickle nature of the majority of even the most devoted, I…"

They were already gone.

Note: Sorry about the delay there. Next chapter will up within a week or so. Is the length of these chapters okay with everyone? They're kind of short, I know.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: The silliness ends here, I'm afraid. Mara Jade, meet Mikal Milo: ticked off ex-bounty hunter with a vendetta.

Chapter 5

Mara slammed the palm of her hand against the solid black wall in frustration.

"No back door," she ground out. "Who doesn't have a back door?" Distantly, she could hear Skywalker weaving soothing words around the enraged crowd swarming at the front entrance. From what she saw before darting around back, it didn't look like he'd be able to hold them off for long. They were armed with enough artillery to take down the Imperial Palace, and frothing with enough rage to make Vader look like a public benefactor. Kriff it all, there was no back door! She swung her fist at the unyielding wall again…

And froze as her wrist was seized in an iron grip.

"Either my wife is mistaken, or your skills have atrophied since we saw you last, Ms. Jade." She twisted in the grasp and looked up.

The cold fury in Milo's eyes belied the tranquility of his voice. Mara was suddenly reminded with painful clarity just why she had failed her Master that once so long ago.

She was also reminded how much she loathed failure.

"I _always _perform to the best of my ability," she retorted sharply. "The issue was not competence. You merely got lucky."

A muscle in his jaw tightened fractionally.

"I'm sure the Emperor didn't view it so."

The wave of dark and scarlet-soaked memories rocked her with no warning, clouding her vision. _Stars, it had hurt…still hurts…_

Through a haze of phantom pain, Mara sensed Milo's reflexive concern…and felt the minute relaxation off his fingers. Her training kicked in, and choking back the past, she wrenched her arms free and whirled away. Within seconds her blaster was in her hand and she trained it on his chest, breathing hard.

"Don't pity me," she snarled.

"I don't," he replied calmly, and then Mara noticed it. Her backup blaster, the little one that she wore on her forearm. Pointing straight at her abdomen. He met her furious gaze coldly, unsmiling.

"Stalemate, Ms. Jade." They stood there like that for several minutes.

"You _were_ pitying me," she said at last, flatly. Shifting his stance slightly, Milo shook his head.

"Only in the way that I would feel compassion for a crippled bird of prey. One can hardly feel any true compassion for their would-be murderer."

_Shards of Alderaan, _Mara thought exasperatedly. _This has to stop. _Unfortunately, there was only one apparent way to change the status quo here.

So gritting her teeth, she very carefully, very slowly, laid her blaster on the ground. His eyes flickered in surprise, but he did not move.

"I'm not here to murder you," she stated quietly. "Luke and I came here because his political and my corporate responsibilities coincide at this place. He needed my help to placate an affronted government, while I needed his help, apparently," her mouth quirked into a wry smile, "to aid and abet the affronters." He did not look convinced. That the blaster did not move only served to emphasize this impression. "Milo," she said uncertainly, trying a different tack, "Milo, the Emperor is dead. All of him." She took a deep breath. "That includes his Hand."

The blaster wavered almost imperceptibly. Encouraged, she opened her mouth to continue, but he cut her off.

"Do you know who else is dead, Jade?" he asked quietly. "Kade's parents. Every soul on Alderaan. The…" his jaw worked, "the entire Jedi order. And billions upon billions of other innocents across the galaxy. One man, Palpatine was, a simple carbon-based organism like the rest of us. He is dead, yes. Like all of his victims. But Ms. Jade, you of all people should know just how little the physical act of dying is tied to the death of ideology." Mara froze; how much did he know? "How about your traveling companion, for a case in point," he continued, and all of a sudden she could not breathe. No one, _no one _knew of her dreams except for the Skywalkers. How… "The Jedi were so much compost before he could walk. And now we see their rebirth in him." She allowed herself an imperceptible sigh. "Alderaan lives on in his sister. A part of Kade's family is in him. So I must ask, how much of the Emperor remains in you? No. Don't answer that." He took a step closer, fingers shifting to grasp the blaster more securely.

Mara didn't know what surprised her more—the intensity of the hate in his eyes…or the tears running out of them.

"You've _won, _Ms. Jade. Please attempt to understand that fact. Your side effectively and efficiently destroyed everything my wife and I ever cared for years ago. Now you bring ghosts of them to taunt us before you finish your last uncompleted mission?" He gestured toward the front of the house. "Do you have the slightest idea how much it hurt to see that boy in our living room and remember all over again? Do you—"  
"I do. Believe me," Mara cut in, dreading where this was going. "It hurts," she said lowly, ignoring the angry skepticism on his face, "because you weren't my last mission. He was."

Milo brought his head up sharply at that.

"We are more alike than you'd want to believe," she continued. "My life was torn out from under me, too. Luke is the living reminder of everything I've lost…and my greatest failure. Don't flatter yourself that you two were it. It was my Master's last command to kill him. And oh, I wanted to. If you are as bitter as you say you are, you'll understand. I didn't have somebody to care for like you and your wife did. For years, all that kept me going was my hatred, and that final, all-too powerful compulsion." She closed her eyes, forcibly driving back the stampede of unwelcome memories. Another long silence fell; the story didn't need to be finished. Skywalker's very presence was ending enough.

"I dreamed I would kill him," she said finally, without opening her eyes. "It didn't happen. "I've been dreaming again now…"

"That you'll kill us?"

"No," she retorted, chagrined that she had let that slip. Her dreams were no one's business. "But I'm starting to wonder if they never happened either." She sighed deeply. "I'm Mara Jade, employee of Talon Karrde and temporary emissary of the New Republic. I came here to pick up a package and give Skywalker a hand. Not to assassinate your family."

"And why exactly should I believe you?" A dozen sarcastic replies sprang to Mara's lips. For some reason, she bit them all back and simply told the truth.

"I don't know."

His eyes narrowed to calculating slits—then snapped with energy as he made his decision.

"No time to waste, then," he said, tossing Mara her blaster and striding away quickly. "Your young Jedi friend won't be able to hold the Kolies for long." Mara caught it and rubbed her wrist; his fingers had left throbbing imprints on her skin- and deeper ones on her pride. He paused at the wall, fingers sliding along a nearly invisible crack, and without further ado, an entrance to a tunnel hissed up. She followed him inside, noting with annoyance that her main occupation on this 'mission' seemed to be tagging along at someone's heels. A most un-Mara like activity.

"Listen up, now," he called over his shoulder. "The deal with Karrde is that we would get the bantha off-planet to an old cache of ours, and he would provide us with a means to get off ourselves since our ship isn't equipped for Kade's needs. Once we're on your ship, I'll give you the coordinates to the cache. Then—"

At that moment, the tunnel exploded.

When Mara came to, here inner time sense told her she had only been out for a few minutes. She sat up, gingerly touching the bloody lump on the back of her head, and looked around.

"Shavit," she breathed.

The tunnel was a ruin of debris, barely navigable, now. And Milo was—dead? She crawled over to him and felt for a pulse…there. Rocking back on her heels, she brushed a strand of hair out her eyes and let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. He was only unconscious.

Then she saw the datacard lying a meter away. It must have been thrown from his pocket, she thought, picking it up. A smile curved over her face as she took a cursory glance over its contents.

"Jackpot," she said softly, and pocketed it. Now to get the woman and boy out of this hellhole. She'd come back for Milo when his family was safe—and when she decided how best to use this little morsel of information.

It took her a painfully long time to pick her way through the collapsing house and find Kade's room, and by the time she did, her danger sense nearly had her hyperventilating.

"Package ready yet?" she threw at Taa-Milo as she bounded in the door. "Because this flight is taking an early departure." The woman cocked her head, hand resting on a satchel.

"Is that so…" she murmured, glancing at Mara's pocket. "Do you hear that, Ms. Jade?"

"Mmm, do I hear the class-A artillery blowing up over my head? Why no, I…"

"Quiet!" Slightly shocked, Mara complied. In the silence, she heard it. Something was beeping.

Taa-Milo sighed. "You took it, didn't you?" Mara couldn't bring herself to meet the sorrow in the other's eyes. "Is he dead?"

"No!" Mara said exasperatedly. "I didn't kill him."

"I didn't ask that." Mara looked up then, and after a moment, she understood. Taa-Milo believed in her. She always had, even…then.

Like Luke.

The Force had led her to Luke. Why was it leading her here?

"He's unconscious. And yes, I took the coordinates." Taa-Milo released the satchel and folded her hands…almost in resignation.

"Then there's something you should know. They are heavily encrypted, and were in a case designed to protect them from theft. There is a code that allows the case to be opened safely, but only my husband knows it. In the even that the datacard is removed from the case without the code being entered, it will self-destruct rather spectacularly. In approximately…" she glanced at the chrono on the wall, thinking. "Five minutes, I'd say."

Mara's mind raced, considering her options. Five minutes was time enough to get back to the tunnel and put the datacard back into the case. The code wouldn't matter; Ghent could slice it like butter. But…

She looked at Taa-Milo, hands folded, eyes so terribly sad. And at Kade, still shifting and moaning restlessly—Kade, whose disconcertingly familiar Force-sense whispered to her so strongly of mystery and unfulfilled promises…or simply unfulfilled promise...

She made her decision with characteristic swiftness.

"I'm a damn fool," she growled, tossing the datacard to the floor, and for the second time that day, ground common sense under heel. Literally. With one longing glance at the twisted remains of the datacard on the floor, she stiffened her shoulders and strode over to Kade's bed. "Come on," she snapped at Taa-Milo. "Help me here. Well? Expect me to haul him all the way to the docking bay on the other side of Sjrilaya myself?

"Yes," Taa-Milo whispered. Mara glanced up sharply, startled. Sinking to the floor, the woman smiled sadly and peeled open the housecoat she wore clutched about her tightly.

Its lining was sticky with blood.

"I see," Mara said shortly. She paused for a moment. "How do you expect me to get him out, then? He's the size of a grown man."

"I know Jedi when I see them." Taa-Milo's voice was serene, assured. Mara shook her head.

"I'm no Jedi. That would be Skywalker out there, Force-talking the angry mob. You know, the one with the fancy lightsaber and infuriating composure."

"Jedi are not defined by the weapons they carry, or even the mannerisms they adopt. What you did there," she inclined her head towards the shattered bits of glass and plastic on the floor, "Was the act of a Jedi." Another blast rocked the house, sending down a shower of crumbled plaster from the ceiling.

"I'd love to stay and continue this riveting conversation all day," Mara stepped to the side, dodging a chunk the size of her fist, "But unfortunately, I've got to run. Now, how do you suggest I get him out?"

"The Force," Taa-Milo replied simply.

"Are you sure you haven't got a touch of it yourself?" Mara muttered, exasperated. "Or maybe you're a long-lost close relation of Skywalker. They pop up rather frequently." The nagging of danger in the back of her mind grew more strident; time was running out. "Alright, let's give it a shot," she sighed, and began to clear her mind the way Skywalker showed in that half-remembered, hastily given crash-course in the forests of Wayland.

It was one thing to feel the Force flowing through her, to be a passive observer in the great sea that crashed upon and immersed all things. It was another thing altogether to reach out to it, grasp the strands sliding through her fingers and coax them to do her will. Not for the last time, she cursed the Emperor for stunting her self-control.

It took a long time- nearly too long, but at last, Mara reached out a loosely curled hand, eyes half-closed and unfocused. Ever so slowly, Kade Milo, bed and all, floated up from the floor, cradled gently but solidly by an invisible cushion.

Mara never saw the pale smile that spread across his adoptive mother's face.

It had been hard, maintaining the level of concentration to levitate Kade all the way back to the freighter, then do the same for Mikal Milo, all the while cloaking herself well enough to avoid notice. It didn't make sense…but somehow, deep in Mara's soul, she was at peace. It was worth it. Now she gazed down at Syunni Taa-Milo, at the woman's colorless face, at her chest rising in ever-shallower breaths, and wondered.

"We were foolish to take a job at our age, and shamed to descend to the level of common thieves." Taa-Milo's voice was strangely even for someone in such obvious pain. "But we needed the credits. Kade's care is expensive, and our stores are dwindling." Somehow, without moving, she managed to convey the impression of a shrug. "As I'm sure you know, Talon Karrde compensates well."

"_Is_ that boy worth it?" For once, Mara's voice was free from any trace of sarcasm. Only questions. "Allow me to be blunt. For him you gave up your career, money, everything. You have no life outside of caring for Kade, and though you may delude yourself into thinking otherwise, he has no life at all." Mara tore a final strip from the blanket and peeled back the woman's tunic. One look at the ugly wound told her that the time for makeshift bandages was long past. A strange sorrow accompanied the knowledge.

"Is it worth it?" she repeated, and an incomprehensible urgency rose in her to hear the answer. In the back of her mind, she was aware of Skywalker struggling to hold the people at the gate and of the need to get back to the ship, but irrationally, everything dwindled in importance to Syunni Milo's answer.

The woman tilted her head slightly to look Mara full in the face, drawing in a ragged breath at the pain.

"You must understand, Ms. Jade. When Mikal and I found Kade lying on filthy floor of a target's home, we had lost everything but each other. The Republic had fallen, the Jedi had fallen, and with them our purpose, our life. That broken little child restored both. He was so small…" Her glazed eyes drifted closed, but her calm, silky voice only grew smoother. "We always believed in the Force; I suppose that's inevitable in a close association with Jedi. It is my fondest belief…" her voice sank to an almost inaudible level. "It is my fondest belief that it was the will of the Force we found him, that we sustained his life." Her smile was weak, and Mara did her best to ignore the trickle of blood at the corners of her mouth. "Our destiny, you might say. Yes, Mara. It has always been worth it."

Mara Jade had witnessed death more times than she liked to remember, and she knew now that Syunni's time was almost up. The dying woman's eyes fluttered open.

Mara found herself distantly curious about what she would say. A profession of love for her family? A nugget of pithy wisdom? A platitude about the Force?

"Don't forget to take the cloths. You'll need them until Mikal can take over Kade's care again." And then Syunni Taa-Milo died.


	7. Epilogue

A/N: Here it is, folks, the conclusion. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read; you guys have been great!

Epilogue

_Reimi took very small steps up the hill, hiding a smile as his small daughter huffed and puffed away. He reached down and tucked her hood more securely around her head, shivering a little in the crisp night wind._

_"Are you sure you won't let me carry you?" he asked. The question had a used, patient feel. "Daddy doesn't mind, you know." _

_"Nope." The succinct reply was just as worn as the question. Finally, they reached the crest of the hill and flopped down unceremoniously, the girl panting hard and the man pretending to. _

"_That was hard, wasn't it, Daddy?" Rolling onto her stomach, she breathed in the spicy scent of the long red blades and giggled as they tickled her cheeks. " I like it when you take me up here." _

"_I like it too." His voice was very soft. The child turned her head to study him from behind a curtain of wispy blond ringlets. _

"_Don't be sad, Daddy," she said anxiously. "It's too pretty up here. Look, the stars are coming out." He looked up then, looked at the blackness staining away the color from the sky, looked at the harsh white needles that punctured it. Then he looked at his daughter, at the thrill in her eyes. _

"_It's very pretty," he said, even quieter. "What do you love about this hill, Meennala?" _

"_I love stars," she said without hesitation. A flash of pain swept across the man's face. Those words had been well used, also, by another with golden curls. He passed a hand over his dark eyes. _

_When he lifted it, they were smiling again._

"_I'll tell you what I love," he said. "I love having all my family to myself on top of the world."_

"_Almost all," she corrected absently. "How many stars are there, anyways?" When he didn't answer, she reached over and tugged his sleeve._

"_How many?" The man gazed up again, as if searching for an answer, or a sign. _

"_Too many to count, Hon," he said at last. _

"_But you can figure everything out. That's your job." The pain again, and when he spoke, there was an undertone that the girl did not understand._

"_Nobody can figure everything out, and not even Daddy can count all the stars. There's just too many." She looked at him then, hard and long, and a very un-childlike look crept into her face. She took his hand._

"_That's okay. They're pretty anyways." The man looked startled. _

"_Yes," he breathed. "You're right, Meenna." He looked up once more, and for the first time that night, his eyes were clear. _

"_They're pretty anyways." _

A gurgling cough pulled Mara out of the dream. She sat up and groped for the cloth. Before her danger sense propelled her from the collapsing house, she had managed to grab several.

Her jaw tightened at the memory of smoke and flames swallowing what had been a rare island of happiness in the galaxy for twenty years. Swallowing a woman who deserved a more honored resting place than rubble and ashes. No, Syunni Taa-Milo didn't deserve _any_ resting place. She deserved to be alive. Mara smiled crookedly at Kade as she dabbed the sticky whiteness away from his throat.

"But you can't cheat death, can you? Death…or destiny. Skywalker doesn't know everything about it. Some things are just meant to…" she trailed off. Kade had ceased to move and was staring directly into her eyes.

For an infinitesimal moment, it was Reimi whose beautiful brown eyes captured her own. It was Reimi whose slack mouth twisted into a caricature of a smile. And as Mara reached out to him with the Force, it was Reimi's bright soul who reached back and flashed her a mischievous, blue-stained grin. It had been Reimi all along, she realized in that instant. He lived. Not in the way he could have, should have, but nevertheless _lived. _

And it was enough.

The dreams _had_ changed her, like she had known they would. Perhaps…perhaps it was a change for the better.

Suddenly she sensed Skywalker behind her and whirled around. He slumped against the doorframe, face haggard and streaked with sweat and dirt, but there was a light in it that she hadn't seen there for a long time.

"That's what was eating at me, you know," he said quietly. "Leia will come to terms with our heritage; I know she will. But your cavalier attitude toward life was something I was afraid had been ingrained permanently. It was crippling you, Mara." Something suspiciously like a tear glistened on his cheek. Mara was silent for a long time.

"Milo called me that," she said at last.

"What?"

"Crippled. A crippled bird of prey."

"Did he." Something flashed in Luke's eyes, something she had never seen there before. She was not sure she liked it. He took a step forward.

"Even birds come down to rest once in a while, Mara." Another step. Crazily, her heart began to race.

"Luke," she whispered uncertainly, leaning back into her seat. Suddenly a thought struck her. "Luke," she said again, and a malicious smile began to creep over her face. He stopped, cocking his head.

"Yes?"

"Since we're on the topic of crippling…"

_Fin_

L/M shippers, sorry for the lack of mush, but when I thought it over, I came to the conclusion that at this stage in their relationship, they haven't really thought about each other romantically. Sure, it's under the surface. But since she just got over the whole homicidal thing, I didn't think either of them are ready to admit their attraction at this point. Plus, she obviously has to work out some of these issues before they can get together. So think of this fic as a logically necessary stepping stone to something juicier.

As for me, it was something of a self-discovery, a fun way to explore what I really believe about what it means to be alive.

And, of course, to set up my favorite SW mammal as an object of worship. LOL!


End file.
